


It's our Time to Make a Move

by evieoh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), F/M, Fluff, High School Reunion, Jemma Simmons is the best wingwoman ever, Smut, never getting over your high school crush, prepare for all the cliches, slightly cracktastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieoh/pseuds/evieoh
Summary: Pausing at the entrance to the hotel convention room she questions her decision to come to this ridiculous event, for at least the 47th time since getting out of her car. She still sees Jemma and Fitz all the time living as close as they do, is in somewhat regular contact with Trip, and it’s not like there is anyone else from high school that she is desperate to see again. (Liar.)Skye reluctantly gets dragged to her 10 year high school reunion, where her high school crush returns with a vengeance.





	It's our Time to Make a Move

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, my previous account was hacked and all my fics deleted, so I am reuploading them all now. This fic was originally posted in April 2016.
> 
> as always, stargazerdaisy is responsible for encouraging this madness. (Also, fixing my paragraph-long sentences and pointing out when I have used the same word 8 times in 3 lines.)
> 
> (And, two years later, she still owes me a sequel :p)

Pausing at the entrance to the hotel convention room she questions her decision to come to this ridiculous event, for at least the 47th time since getting out of her car. She still sees Jemma and Fitz all the time living as close as they do, is in somewhat regular contact with Trip, and it’s not like there is anyone else from high school that she is desperate to see again. ( _Liar._ )

She only attended Hamilton High School for seven months, but that is still almost a record for her for the longest time at any school and she did manage to graduate from there, so here she is: the Hamilton High 10 year reunion.

Jemma had begged her to come, but she still probably would have resisted if it wasn’t for Coulson. He took her in as a weary and hardened foster kid at 17 and became the first real family she has ever had. He has also not shut up about the reunion since he was chosen as the faculty representative a month ago, and it’s been awhile since she’s come home to visit him anyhow, so she figured she might as well give in.

She is regretting that decision now though, standing before a table filled with name tags and all of the awkward and occasionally painful memories of high school running on a loop in her mind. The only person from then that she’d like to see and isn’t already in touch with is very unlikely to be here tonight. No one has heard from Grant Ward since the day after graduation. It was like he simply disappeared.

But Skye has never been able to forget him, or that last time she saw him…

_They were sitting on Bobbi Morse’s front porch, the late spring night warm and the sound of laughter spilling from the open windows. Everyone seemed almost high on the euphoria of graduation. Even people who seemingly hated each other the entire four years of high school were suddenly acting like best friends tonight._

_And Skye and Ward were hiding out in the shadows, just the two of them. Skye knew it wouldn’t last long, Jemma was bound to come flying out the door and demand that she dance with her, or Fitz would come out to drunkenly tell them both how much he loves them, for at least the fifth time. But for right now, Skye was enjoying the moment she had alone with him._

_Ward was leaving in the morning, some insane wilderness survival camp thing his parents were sending him on, so she wouldn’t see him for the rest of the summer, and then after that they were all going in different directions for college. She had no way of knowing when she would see him again._

_Skye rested her head against Ward’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of him, feeling heat pool low in her belly. She had always had this awareness of him, the flush in her cheeks whenever his body brushed against hers. But she always felt too awkward to make a move, and Ward had never shown any interest anyway, so she accepted her fate of unrequited lust. She was happy being his friend, honestly. But, if there were nights where she imagined what his body would feel like pressed against hers, while her hands wandered lower...well, that’s just for her._

_Ward shifted a little on the porch swing, moving his arm to rest against the backrest, curving against her shoulders. His movement lifted her head from his shoulder, and as she looked over at him she caught a glimpse of something in his gaze that made her think that maybe she wasn’t as alone in those feelings as she thought._

_She leaned in towards him, impulsive and throwing caution to the wind. She could totally blame the alcohol and the general giddiness of the night, and really, school was over - if this went badly she wasn’t exactly going to have to see him in social studies class the next day._

_At the first touch of her lips against his, she felt every nerve ending in her body flare, the adrenaline flooding through her, her lips burning where they brushed against his. As she pulled back though she realized he was still completely frozen, staring at her with a dazed look on his face, and all of a sudden this felt like a terrible fucking idea. Hot shame washed over her, her cheeks burning as she moved to run. But his hand on hers pulled her back, and then his other hand was cupping her cheek so tenderly as he began to kiss her hungrily. He was still holding onto her right hand with his own, squeezing her fingers between his, and she brought her other hand up to slide behind his neck, pulling him closer, practically crawling into his lap with her eagerness._

_The kiss was everything she had dreamed it might be; those sparks trailing down her spine as his tongue brushed against hers, his fingers dragging through her hair, desperately trying to pull her even closer._

_And then just as suddenly as it began, it was over. Fitz and Hunter came tumbling out the door, singing loudly and off-key, the shouts of protests from the rest of the party following them outside._

_From there suddenly the porch was crowded with partygoers, and Skye never got a moment alone with Ward again for the rest of the night. All they managed was a wry smile and a hug that lingered just a little longer than friendly might allow, as they said goodbye at the end of the night. Skye still believed then that she’d see him again at the end of the summer, before she left for school, but he never came back after the summer and she has spent the last ten years with that ‘what if?’ hanging over her._

She is broken out of her musing by someone letting out a loud whoop as a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapping around her midsection and swinging her around. Caught somewhere between shrieking in terror and preparing to elbow whoever the fuck this is right in the face, she recognizes the laugh that is rumbling against her spine.

“Hey girl, look at you!” Trip says as he finally sets her back on her feet, his grin almost blinding as she dives forward to throw her arms around him. “When did you change your hair?”

“Ugh,” she says as she reaches up self-consciously to touch the choppy ends of her rash decision that is taking far too long to grow out. “Impulsive reaction to a breakup.”

“Hell of a reaction. Recent?”

“A few months now.”

“Ah. Well, quite the loss on his part.” Trip’s laidback charm and affection never fails to put her at ease. That certainly hasn’t changed in 10 years.

Trip was that popular guy who somehow managed to be friends with absolutely everyone. He had a easy, but still genuine, friendliness that you couldn’t help responding to in kind. He was the popular jock who still hung out with the awkward and shy science kids, not to mention new girls who had been shuffled around the foster system so long that they didn’t even try to make friends anymore.

Thanks to Trip and FitzSimmons ( _and Ward_ , her brain helpfully provides) she finally managed to actually make friendships that lasted.

Now he ushers her over to a table where Fitz and Simmons are already sitting, the two of them dwarfed by the gigantic centerpiece of helium balloons and a mess of ribbons in the school colors.

“Skye!” Jemma squeals, rushing over to her friend. “I’m so glad you made it! Can you believe it’s been 10 years already?”

“Jemma, we literally saw each other last week. And I’m driving home with you and Fitz on Sunday, remember?”

“I know, but being back here I can’t help but feel all nostalgic.”

Skye just laughs and hugs her back. Her friendship with Jemma Simmons was forged on her third day at Hamilton, when her new English Lit teacher decided that letting Fitz and Simmons work together all the time was unfair to the rest of the class and split them up. Skye was in the seat next to Jemma and thus their friendship was born. Fitz was pretty much a package deal, but she adores him just as much as Jemma. His cheerful and easygoing nature hid a truly lionhearted loyalty to his friends. His support has gotten Skye through some of the hardest times in her life.

The four of them catch up on what they have been up to lately, and observe the rest of the people milling around the room, trying to guess which of them are classmates they’ve forgotten and which are spouses.

“I think that’s...Bakshi? Sunil Bakshi, was it? You know the guy from Calculus? He slept through every class,” Skye suggests to Trip.

“Naw. Bakshi was taller than that. I think that guy is actually with Raina. Maybe a trophy husband?”

Fitz snorts, “Not sure what trophy that would be. What about that lady in the blue and green dress? I swear I know her, but I can’t think of her name!”

“Oh, that’s….that’s….Anna? Hannah! Hannah Hutchins. She was in our advanced chemistry class,” Simmons helpfully supplies.

“Trip!” A female voice suddenly cries from over Skye’s shoulder, before a tall blond woman is suddenly leaning down to hug him. As she pulls back Skye finally gets a chance to recognize her. Bobbi Morse was a star athlete, on the student council, and homecoming queen, while Lance Hunter had been that guy that sat in the back row and snored in class. No one had ever been able to figure out how they worked as a couple, but evidently they did.

Trip gestures for them to take a couple of the empty chairs at their table, as everyone catches up on the basic ‘Where are you living/What are you doing these days?’ questions.

Skye is still stuck on marvelling at how this couple, of all those she has known, has managed to stick together since high school. “So you guys are still together? Wow.”

“No,” replies Bobbi, at the same moment that Hunter says, “Yeah.”

As the rest of the group looks at the two of them quizzically, Bobbi sighs and explains, “We got married right after college. Then we got divorced.”

“And now you’re…?”

“Getting the milk for free.” Hunter leers at Bobbi and she responds by shoving him in the shoulder so he almost falls off his chair.

The rest of the table laughs at their antics, the affection between the two of them obvious under the irritation. And then Skye feels the skin on the back of her neck prickle just before Trip looks at someone behind her and breaks out into a wide grin. “Ward! Hey man, we weren’t sure if you were gonna show.”

Fitz jumps out of his seat to greet Ward with an enthusiastic hug, and Simmons is only a few steps behind him. Skye can’t bring herself to look at him though, suddenly ridiculously nervous and unsure of herself.

“Hey, Skye,” he says, his voice soft, and she finally tilts her head up to face him.

They always say your high school crush never ages well, but that could not be further from the truth as far as Grant Ward is concerned. Any lingering adolescent softness that remained at the age of 18 has been carved away into sharp edges and a stubbled jaw, broad shoulders and a hint of danger in his dark eyes. Everything about him causes her biological imperative to kick into overdrive (and possibly every other woman in the room as well.)

She only has one good picture of him, aside from his yearbook portrait but that looks so stiff and posed and nothing like the Ward she came to know. In all of the other photos she has he is always turned partially away from the camera so only the edge of his face is visible or else he is out of focus. But there is one photo, that Jemma took the night of their graduation. Skye is smiling broadly at the camera, her cheeks already a little flushed from alcohol and the joy that seemed to infect everyone that night, but Ward is looking only at Skye, wearing that soft half-smile that only she ever seemed to coax from him and his eyes filled with a kind of wonder.

Ward was kind of a loner in high school, not exactly an outcast but he definitely didn’t have friends, at least until she and FitzSimmons somewhat forced him to be friends with them. His family was rich and he was a star athlete, so hanging out with with the popular kids was the easy move, but he seemed to prefer being the slightly scary guy who sat in the back of the classroom and everyone found too intimidating to speak to. Skye was more than happy to follow the seemingly unwritten rule that everyone just steered clear of Grant Ward, until the day that Mr. Garrett paired the two of them up for a Social Studies project.

She can still remember how apprehensive she felt approaching him that first day they had to work together. He had perfected his intimidating glare from years of practice, but over the two months they worked together on the project, she slowly came to see a very different side of him. He was caring and loyal and actually funny, once you climbed over those walls of his.

Now he smiles warmly at her, something about the look in his eye telling her that his thoughts are following a similar path to her own. As he moves to sit down, Skye realizes that Jemma has deliberately sat down in a different chair than the one she was in before she jumped up to greet Ward, leaving the seat beside Skye empty for Ward. Skye attempts to glare at Jemma over the piles of purple and gold ribbons obscuring her eyeline, but the Brit just grins back at her broadly.

“Wow. This is such a time warp,” Bobbi laughs, as she looks around the room at their former classmates.

“I know what you mean,” Skye agrees, turning her attention away from Jemma. “I keep feeling like I need to hide my drink under the table so I don’t get busted by the teachers.”

“Remember how we used to cut gym and go hang behind the band room? Do you think anyone still does that?”

“I specifically remember doing that once, thanks to you, Hunter, and getting caught. Coulson did not appreciate hearing about that,” Skye says.

“Hey now! You make it sound like I was the bad seed, leading you all astray!” He defends himself.

“That’s because you were,” Trip says, shaking his head at Hunter.

“Oh, and you guys never hid under the bleachers to watch the cheerleaders practice? And I’m sure you had nothing to do with all the hamsters that were rolling all over the school.” Hunter accuses, pointing at Ward, Trip, and Fitz.

Skye can still remember that day, the bell ringing and all the classroom doors opening and then everyone freezing as the hallways were flooded with hamsters merrily rolling past in their little plastic balls. It was chaos, they were everywhere, there had to be at least 200 of them in total: in the cafeteria, rolling under the tables; in the library, getting lost among the stacks; rolling through the open doors and into the classrooms. They ended up having to close the school for the afternoon to collect them all. It went down as the most legendary prank in the history of senior pranks at Hamilton, but no one had ever claimed responsibility for it.

“I knew that was the three of you!” Jemma exclaims, hitting Fitz in the shoulder lightly. “I can’t believe you lied to me!”

Fitz apologizes, but he is still grinning from ear to ear as he looks over at Ward. “Remember Mr. Blake’s face that day? I thought his head was going to explode. He kept running after them and trying to grab the wee things and they just kept slipping out of his grasp. It was like some kind of Monty Python routine.”

Ward just nods his head, his shoulders shaking with near-silent laughter, but still doesn’t actually admit his role in the prank.

“I think that was the only time I ever saw Coach May smile,” Skye grins.

Hunter groans, “Oh God. I still have nightmares about that woman. I swear her mission in life was to make me either cry or throw up. And she succeeded way too many times!”

Bobbi pats his shoulder, rolling her eyes at the same time.

“You know what?” Skye says, lowering her voice and leaning in. “I’m pretty sure her and Coulson are seeing each other these days. I can’t get a straight answer out of him, but he is definitely acting weird and she always seems to be around when I call him.”

“I always thought they were was way too much UST between those two for there to be nothing going on,” Fitz says sagely.

“Fitz! That man is like my father, I really do not want to think about that,” Skye hisses as she throws a toothpick at him.

“UST?” Ward asks, a confused look on his face.

“Unresolved Sexual Tension,” Fitz helpfully supplies at the same time as Hunter chimes in.

“It means they always acted like they were five minutes away from going at it like bunnies in the janitor’s closet.”

“Ugh. Thanks for that mental image, Hunter,” Skye groans, burying her head in her hands, before standing up from the table. “And on that note, I need more alcohol. I’ll get the next round.”

Ward stands up from his chair at the same time as she does. “I’ll come and help you carry.”

Skye feels her cheek flush as his hand brushes her shoulder as they turn to walk toward the bar, feeling completely ridiculous and definitely ignoring the not even remotely subtle thumbs up that Jemma sends her way.

After giving the bartender their orders, Skye leans against the bar and turns towards Ward. “So… Where  _did_  you disappear to after high school anyway?”

“The Marines, for a few years,” he tells her, a shadow flickering through his eyes but gone in an instant as he continues. “I’m in Private Security now.”

And it shows. He was hot as hell in high school, despite his near permanent scowl, but even with the blazer he’s wearing she can tell he is seriously built now. The difference between the 18 year old boy and the 28 year old man is definitely clear, and she wants to climb him like a fucking tree. Every single hormone in her body is suddenly screaming as her awkward high school lust returns with an absolute vengeance.

 

_Skye and Jemma had stayed late after school while Jemma attempted to help Skye understand the basic principles of Physics, and Skye attempted to control her urge to scream at Jemma every time she insisted that something that sounded like an alien language to Skye was “honestly, ridiculously easy.”_

_Once they finally reached a compromise that Skye probably knew enough to pass her test the next day, and they would still be able to be friends after this, the two of them packed up their books and began to cross the campus. Their walk to the parking lot led them past the basketball court, where a few guys were still lingering, the sound of the ball hitting the asphalt echoing off the walls of the school building._

_As the two girls drew closer, Skye realized that two of the guys playing were Trip and Ward and she began to drag Jemma over with her. She and Ward were almost done with their Social Studies project but she had one detail that she needed to go over with him. The game appeared to be winding down so this seemed like the perfect time to approach him about it. Until of course, Ward walked over to his gym bag, not noticing the two girls, and pulled his sweaty shirt over his head, wiping at his face and neck before dropping it by the bag and reaching for his sweatshirt._

_Skye felt her mouth run dry at the sight before her. She had been working with Ward for over a month now, he had finally begun speaking full sentences and seeming less terrifying, but she had somehow still never really considered what he might look like with his shirt off. And now she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how that might have been. The guy was a work of art. He had muscles that no teenage boy should be capable of having, and as her eyes followed a trickle of sweat down his chest and over his abdomen, her thoughts began to drift south with it._

_“Well...he is certainly nicely proportioned, isn’t he?”_

_The sound of Jemma’s voice snapped Skye out of whatever trance the sight of Grant Ward’s naked shoulders had put her under and she suddenly grabbed her friend’s arm and began to drag her in the opposite direction, keeping her head ducked low and trying to hug the walls of the school as close as possible._

_“What on earth is wrong with you?” Jemma sputtered at her. “I thought you had to talk to Ward about your project...OH!”_

_Clearly the sight of Skye’s blush, spreading all the way from her hairline to her chest, was enough of an answer. And thus Jemma’s relentless teasing about Skye’s crush was born._

When they get back to the table Fitz is in the middle of a truly terrible impression of Ms. Hand, their former principal, and the rest of the group is in hysterics at both Fitz’s awful mimicry and Jemma’s attempts to correct him that are just as bad.

Looking around at the group, Skye is suddenly very glad she came (and not just for the rush of heat that spreads through her as Ward’s hand presses gently against the small of her back as he pulls out her chair for her.) Even though she sees Fitz and Jemma all the time, and catches up with Trip as often as they both can, there is something so fun about everyone being back together, the way they all revert back to who they used to be just a little. She would not return to being 17 if you paid her, but for just one night it’s fun to skip around memory lane.

People come and go through the night, mingling among all the tables. Skye gets to see her old lab partner, Mack. His smile is just as big and infectious as ever, and her hugs her warmly before she invites him to join their group. She notices the way he and Fitz both react to each other, and she wonders if it is just something about high school reunions that everyone reverts back to their old crushes in some weird way. Oh well, good for them. Maybe after all this time they might finally get somewhere.

One of Bobbi’s former teammates comes by, an amazonian woman that Skye  _thinks_  was named Stephanie, but who had always gone by the truly mystifying nickname of ‘Sif’. She had been on Skye’s team for dodgeball in gym class once, and Skye had decided right then and there that she never wanted to be on Sif’s bad side.

Now she is smiling as she hugs Bobbi and exclaims in a voice that sounds far more excited than Skye ever thought she would be capable of appearing, “Barbara!”

Bobbi laughs and hugs her back, while the rest of the group apparently only just remembers that that’s her real name.

“Oh my God! Sif! How are you? What are you doing these days? The last I heard you were joining the U.N.?”

“Yes, I’m still working with them, and I’ve been living in Norway for the last few years. And you? I heard you finally got divorced?” The last bit is added with a slight sneer in Hunter’s direction.

“Oi! I’m right here you know,” Hunter shoots back.

“Yes, I can see that. That’s why I brought it up,” Sif replies without change in her expression.

The rest of the table laughs at Hunter’s exaggerated outrage. Skye had honestly forgotten how much fun she had with these people. Sure, she still hangs out with Jemma and Fitz, but it’s different being in a group again. And Ward. Everything about their friendship that kept him so close in her mind even without hearing from him for the last ten years still seems to be there. They fall back into the same rhythm so easily - the two of them laughing together at the antics of the others, slipping back into their old shorthand, old jokes. It all feels so easy, so right. There was a part of her that has spent these last few years convinced that her memories of him must have been filtered somehow, the way she has unconsciously held him up as some kind of standard that none of her relationships have managed to meet. Over time she has become convinced that there is no way he could actually have been the man she has made him in her memory, but now, here, she is confronted with the fact that maybe he really is after all.

At some point as the night goes on somebody (she’s pretty sure it’s Hunter) suggests shots, and somehow the nostalgia of the evening has caused everyone to forget just how much a bad idea shots really are - especially once the magical almost-hangover-proof years of your early twenties have passed.

Lemon wedges and a salt shaker are passed around the table, Ward rolling his eyes at Skye as she hands them to him, but he licks the skin between his thumb and forefinger before sprinkling salt on the damp skin anyway. Skye definitely does not blush as she thinks of other things he could do with that tongue, coughing as she downs her shot too fast and the lemon juice feels harsh on her raw throat.

Jemma downs her shot with a whoop, and Skye doesn’t miss the way Trip’s eyes linger on her mouth as she bites into the lemon wedge. The crush he had on her in high school was both legendary and painful, Jemma being the only person oblivious to his feelings. Skye could never get a straight answer out of Trip for why he didn’t just ask her out back then, but with the way he’s looking at her tonight maybe he’s actually going to go for it.

Ward’s chair has been angled slightly to face hers, and now Skye leans in towards him, flushing a little at the warmth of his body so close to hers and blaming it on the tequila. “Ten bucks says this is the night Trip finally makes his move.”

He laughs, his head ducking down so close to hers that she feels his laughter against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She can’t tell anymore if this is just some kind of high school reunion magic, if the nostalgia and the alcohol are combining to make her think there is more here than there is, or if the connection she felt with him all those years ago really is just as strong now. Skye isn’t even sure anymore if it really matters. Whether this is just a way of closing the door on something that has felt unfinished for the last decade, the could-have-beens that have haunted her through every one of her relationships since then, or if there is a chance for it to possibly be the beginning of something, she wants it either way.

She glances up at him through her eyelashes, and finds him staring intently at her mouth, his eyes dark and his cheeks looking almost a little flushed.

“So you’re staying here in the hotel?” she asks him, her voice falling just shy of the casual tone she was aiming for.

He nods, his eyes still focused on her lips and she can’t help but run her tongue across them, revelling in the way his breath seems to hitch. Grabbing the final shot glass from the table, she says a silent prayer to whoever the patron saint of teenage dreams might be, as she downs it and then meets his eye again, “Wanna show me your room?”

As far as pickup lines go it is definitely not one of the best she has managed, but Ward just nods wordlessly again, grabbing his own glass and downing the last of it as he looks at her with his eyes darkened with lust.

“Since we aren’t  _actually_  still in high school, though I highly doubt any of our friends are capable of remembering that at this point, I’ll meet you by the elevators in five minutes?” Skye says, rolling her eyes a little as she looks across the table where Hunter, Trip, and Fitz seem to have begun playing some modified version of beer pong and cheering, while Mack laughs and Bobbi rolls her eyes at their antics and Jemma is checking out the ass of some guy Skye doesn’t recognize.

Ward’s follows her gaze and grins, “Right. I’ll head out first?”

His fingertips linger on her forearm as he turns away, a trail of goosebumps following his touch and she shivers in anticipation of what the rest of the night might bring.

She walks over to check in with Phil as Ward says his goodbyes to the group, her attention wandering in his direction frequently. Coulson definitely seems aware of her distraction, looking entirely unconvinced when she says she’s going to head out to grab something real to eat and might stay with Jemma tonight, but he nods anyway and tells her he’ll see her the next day.

Making her way back to the table Skye begs off with a headache and says she has to head home for the night. Trip protests but she promises to meet them all for brunch the next day and that seems to appease everyone. She makes her way around the table, hugging everyone, telling them how happy she is to see them again and swapping contact information, promising to keep in touch. Jemma hands Skye her purse with sly grin and definite twinkle in her eye, her fingers tapping deliberately against the clutch as she hands it over.

“Have fun,” she says in a slightly sing-song tone, only grinning wider when Skye hisses at her to shut up, glancing worriedly around the table but the others seem completely oblivious, thank God.

Ward is waiting by the elevator when she steps out into the lobby, and the sight of his awkward fidgeting actually helps ease her nerves a little. Grinning she walks over to him, keeping out of his line of sight and creeping up behind him, reaching up to lightly brush her fingertips against the ridiculously ticklish spot below his ear. His entire body tenses, his shoulders shooting up to his ears as he spins around to get out of her reach. When he sees that it’s her he glares as he tries to force the tension from his body, and Skye can’t help the giggles that bubble to the surface, which only cause his mock-glare to increase.

“Awfully jumpy for a super spy there, Ward.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but just ends up sputtering at her as she laughs, suddenly feeling like she did the night of their graduation - like she can feel the happiness in her skin, like her face isn’t able to contain the smile that is taking over it. Just then the elevator arrives and she grabs his hand to drag him in behind her. She spins so her back rests against the wall and looks up at him, her pulse picking up at the heat in his gaze as he stares back at her.

Swiping her tongue across her suddenly dry lips, his eyes darken as he leans in closer to her, crowding her against the back wall of the elevator. His lips have only just brushed against hers when the doors slide open with a ding as they reach Ward’s floor. He pulls back and grins at her crookedly as he shakes his head. “We will have one kiss that won’t be interrupted, right?”

She laughs and leans back up to kiss him again, but the doors begin to slide closed again so he pushes the button to hold them open as he pulls her out of the elevator and down the hall, her arms still wound around his neck and her lips brushing against his jaw. It’s like ten years of unresolved lust and frustration is coming to the surface all at once, and she can’t keep herself off him. Her fingers gripping his hair, sliding across his neck and shoulders, her mouth on his throat; she can’t get enough, can’t get close enough.

Ward fumbles with his keycard when they reach his door, clearly distracted by her attentions. He groans and pushes her against the wall, reaching down to grab one of her thighs and pull it over his hip as he thrusts against her. Skye gasps at the feel of him against her, biting down against the side of his throat before shoving the collar of his shirt aside and scraping her teeth across his collarbone, and he shudders beneath her touch.

Her fingers slip between them to undo the buttons of his shirt, the memory of the sight of his shirtless body all those years ago spurring her on. If he looked that good back then, what has ten years in the military and private security done to him? Once the buttons are all undone Skye pushes his shirt aside, sliding her hands across the firm ridges of his abdomen, and following the trail of hair there down to the waistband of his pants. Ward jerks against her and groans again as her finger slip beneath the fabric there, before he grabs her hand and pulls back with one last kiss.

"Skye...." he breathes, sounding absolutely wrecked. "Should we maybe get inside the room before the clothes come off?"

She laughs as she leans back up to him, grinning against his mouth and plucking the keycard from his fingertips. Swiping it through the lock and the light turns green on the first try, she smirks at him over her shoulder and he grabs her hips and spins her around as they stumble into the room.

He kicks the door shut behind them, looking at her wolfishly as he ducks his head back down to claim her lips again. Skye returns to her previous goal and shoves his shirt and jacket off his shoulders, and moving on to his fly, her fingers shaking with excitement as she fumbles, his lips and tongue and teeth against her throat all serving to distract her.

Deciding she needs to even the playing field, Skye reaches for the zip at the side of her dress and slips the straps of her shoulders, the soft fabric sliding down her body and pooling at her feet. Ward’s breath catches as he stares at her, standing before him in her underwear and heels, her push-up bra definitely performing admirably if the look in his eye is anything to go by. Smirking at him she walks backwards to the bed, slipping off her heels and unhooking her bra, sprawling across the end of it, and giving him what she really hopes come across as a seductive look. Given the way he stumbles as he kicks his shoes off and shoves his pants down, scrambling across the bed to cover her body with his, she thinks she succeeds.

And oh God, yes, the years have made his body an even more incredible sight to behold. She has never before thought she had a particular fixation on muscles, but she wants to run her tongue over every dip and groove on his body. For the moment she settles for sliding her hands across his back, exploring the effect her touch seems to have on him.

Her fingers hook into the waistband of his boxer briefs and she shoves them down, groaning as her hands slide over the curve of his ass. Wiggling out of her own underwear, Skye gasps at the feel of his naked body against hers. His erection sliding through her slick folds, brushing insistently against her clit. If she just angles herself a little then… Oh God. The feel of him, even just the tip, sliding inside her is enough to make the white noise take over her brain. All she wants to do is pull his hips hard against hers until he fills her completely. These shallow teasing thrusts are making her lose her mind. But he pulls out of her completely before she can get a firm enough grip on his ass to drag him in.

He chuckles at her distressed whimper, leaning down to press his lips against hers once more, hard and quick, before murmuring, “Condom?”

“You don’t have one?” she asks incredulously, only belated realizing it might be insulting to assume a guy would bring condoms to their high school reunion. But seriously.

“This wasn’t exactly how I imagined my night going, so no.”

“Shit.”

Ward looks at her, his tussled hair only making him look more attractive as he tries to salvage the situation. “Well, you know, we don’t have to… I mean, there are other-”

“No. Dammit, I have been waiting 10 fucking years for this. It’s happening, ok?” So maybe her tone was a little sharp there, but honestly. Ten years. It is a long time to wait and she wants this to happen so bad. And she wants it to happen  _Now._

“So, what do you suggest?” he asks mildly, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards at her vehemence.

“I don’t know… Maybe… Wait!” she suddenly cries as she remembers Jemma’s smirk and the way she tapped her fingers against Skye’s purse as she handed it over. Praying that her suspicions are correct, Skye dives gracelessly across the bed and starts pawing through the pile of their clothes scattered on the floor. Her hand eventually finds her clutch and she grabs it and digs through it eagerly before shouting in joy as her fingers brush against the foil packets.

She holds up the strip of condoms triumphantly as Ward stares at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement coloring his features. “I thought you said you didn’t have any?”

“Jemma,” she explains as she awkwardly tries to maneuver her way back on to the bed from her position of being half sprawled across the floor. He watched her struggle for a minute before reaching over and pulling her entire body across the bed using only one arm. Her thoughts are reduced back to her very shallow appreciation of his muscles, dragged back only by his voice as he stares at her with a patience that implies he is repeating himself.

“Why did Jemma hide condoms in your purse?” he asks as he takes the strip of foil packets from her, his eyebrow raising a little as he also notes how many Jemma gave them.

“Are you kidding me? She and Fitz wanted the two of us to get together in high school almost as much as I did.”

“So, they’re kind of pimping us out to each other?” he asks, grinning as he leans forward to kiss her throat.

“I think they’d- OH!” She breaks off as he bites down gently, his tongue flicking across the tender skin after. Gasping again as his mouth moves lower, she valiantly tries to continue, “I think they would prefer to be thought of as our fairy godmothers.”

He grins up at her crookedly just before his lips close around her nipple. Skye moans and her back arches up off the bed, her body seeking the sensations of his mouth against her. Just as she begins to lose herself in the rhythm he sets, her eyes closed and the world disappearing except for the feelings he is wringing from her body, he pulls away. She whimpers in frustration, her hands scrambling to his hair to drag him back, and he huffs a laugh against her wrist as presses a kiss there before looking up to meet her gaze. He looks so utterly wrecked, his hair a mess from her hands, his cheeks flushed and his eyes blown dark. From the smirk on his face she guesses she probably presents a similar picture.

“You know, this is how I used to picture you, back then,” he murmurs, sliding further down her body, holding her gaze. “I used to get off almost every single night imagining the way you would look”

He bites gently at her hipbone, smirking at the groan that escapes her at the image his words inspire. “The sounds you’d make.”

And then as he dips his head between her thighs, breathing in deeply before running his tongue through her folds, looking back up at her as he licks his bottom lip, “The way you’d taste.”

She can’t help it now, her hands sliding back into his short hair as she roughly pulls his head back towards her, she needs his mouth on her  _now_ , but he goes willingly - licking heat into her, flicking his tongue across her clit with a rhythm that leaves her shaking. He keeps bringing her right to the edge and then easing off, and if she had any doubt that this is some kind of punishment for the last ten years of wanting, then the look in his eye after she finally breaks and begs him “Please,” clears that right up.

He looks like a man possessed, as though the sound of her moans are keeping him going, and as he lowers his mouth back to her clit this time he brings one of his hands down from where he was holding her hips steady and slides two fingers inside her, curling them against her walls at the same time as he sucks hard on her clit. It’s like a tidal wave crashing over her, after spending so long being brought to the brink, everything fades out a little with the force of her orgasm and she comes back to herself to find him hovering over her, breathing hard and suddenly looking almost unsure of himself.

Slipping her hands behind his neck, Skye pulls him down so she can kiss him, the taste of herself on his mouth only making that edge return. She can feel him hard against her hip, and even though she is still feeling the aftershocks of her first orgasm all she wants is him inside her. Grabbing blindly for the strip of condoms on the bedside table, she quickly tears one off the strip before ripping the packet open. Reaching down to grasp his erection in her hand, she pumps him a few times, relishing in the way his eyes fall shut and his hip stutter against her, before sliding the latex over his cock.

Ward kisses her again, his tongue sliding against her own, the taste of herself strong in his mouth, before he moves between her thighs. He looks at her face again before he slides inside her, like he’s trying to preserve this moment in his mind. And then he’s inside her, filling her, stretching her, hitting every good point along the way. They both groan as he bottoms out, her hands sliding down to grip his hips and pull him tight against her. It takes a long moment before he begins to move, pulling almost all of the way out of her before sliding back in with an almost agonizing slowness. A part of Skye wants to flip them over so she’s on top, so she can ram her hips against his with the bruising pace she craves, but another part of wants to savor this moment for as long as they can. They have all night (and the ridiculous amount of condoms that Jemma gave them), they have time for everything. She wants their first time to be slow, special, to be able to take their time exploring each other’s bodies and all the things that make them both moan.

Eventually though, their pace begins to pick up, Ward’s thrusts growing harder as he hooks an arm around one of her thighs and slides it over his shoulder, the change in position causing her to cry out his name. She can feel her second orgasm building as his thrusts start to grow erratic, his hand sliding between their bodies to rub her clit with his thumb. Her muscles are tensing and her pulse pounding, when he thrusts hard one last time before his entire body turns rigid above her, crying out her name as he comes. Between the feel of him pulsing inside her, and the pressure on her clit, she follows him quickly.

He collapses against her, his face buried against her throat, and somehow, even with her leg still hook over his shoulder and his considerable weight crushing her into the mattress, she feels completely content. Lost in the afterglow haze, she runs her fingers across his shoulders, pressing feather light kisses against his hair.

Eventually he gathers the strength to move, both of them protesting a little as he slips from her body, before he rolls onto his back and moves to dispose of them condom. Without his body covering her, her sweat-slick skin suddenly feels chilled and she moves to slip under the sheets, tucking her body into his side when he does the same.

Laying beside him, her head resting on his chest, his heart still pounding beneath her ear, and his fingers trailing light patterns down her arms, Skye feels more safe and at peace than she can remember feeling in so long. A part of her still wants to kick herself for never making a move back in school, but maybe they weren’t ready yet then, as much as they both apparently wanted this - maybe they needed these last ten years to figure things out and have a chance of making things work. And she knows she is possibly insane to look at this situation and imagine  _forever_  coming from this. But there is something in the soft touch of his fingers on her skin, in the look in his eyes when she leans up to kiss him lightly, that makes her feel like maybe she isn’t the only one lost in that insanity. Maybe they owe it to the 17 year olds they used to be to at least try.


End file.
